Category: My Day

What Would You Do if You Got a Bladder Infection …in the Middle of the Night …in the Middle of the Desert …on a Train?

Ok, the women (and married men) may appreciate this story a bit more than others..but, I think, only slightly.

What would you do if you got a bladder infection …in the middle of the night …in the middle of the desert …while on a train?

If you know anything about bladder infections, you know that they can come on fast and furious, and put a woman in agony within a few hours of hitting if they aren’t nipped in the bud.

Get one in the evening and if you are unfortunate enough to have to wait until the morning to get some medicine, you are unlikely to sleep much, and by morning you may be doubled over in pain.

My prospects were even worse. On a train bound for Denver – in the middle of the desert in Nevada – in the middle of the night, it hit me.

We were 24 hours out from our destination.

With absolutely no rest stops, let alone layovers, on the way.

The only option was to either be put off at one of the way-stops which would (hopefully) have a pharmacy, and catch the next train 24 hours later, or…to not.

But, getting off at the next stop …in the middle of the desert …in the middle of the night …in the middle of nowhere, wasn’t actually an option – even were I alone, as I’m on my way to co-lead a workshop, so I need to arrive on time, not a day late. And with our son along, it was completely out of the question.

I gritted my teeth and gamely put our son to bed, all the while dreading the storm ahead of me, wondering if I could possibly ride it out until morning.

You women know what I mean.

You men? Well, imagine getting kicked in that certain sensitive area. Hard. While laying prone. Every 5 minutes. All night.

As soon as I tucked our son in, I frantically messaged my husband, who is flying out to meet us in Denver.

“SOS,” read the messages, “please bring my bladder infection medicine with you.”

“And a stretcher.”

Because, by the time we got to Denver, I knew I would barely be able to move.

It was 9:30pm, and my husband wasn’t answering. Probably packing for the trip, or already in bed.

My mind numb with worry and increasing pain, I barely heard the conductor making some announcement about how it would be the last announcement of the night before all the crew went to bed, and..something about a fast smoke break in Winnemucca (Nevada) in about 45 minutes.

“Hmm..,” I thought, “I wonder what the odds are that there is an all night pharmacy in Winnemucca?”

I immediately dismissed the thought from my mind, as even if there were an all night pharmacy in Winnemuca, unless it was right next to the train station, I would have no way to get to it. Especially during the five minutes that the train would be there.

And if you’ve ever seen an Amtrak station, you know that they don’t tend to be in the same parts of town as are the all-night pharmacies.

So I dismissed the thought from my mind.

And then my bladder bludgeoned it back in.

So I thought about Winnemucca some more.

“What if I could convince a taxi to go to the pharmacy, pick up an over-the-counter bladder infection remedy, and meet me at the train?”

“Do they even have taxis in Winnemucca?”

“I’m sure they won’t have an all night pharmacy.”

I begin to Google pharmacies in Winnemucca.

I thank God for my Macbook, my Cingular phone with the unlimited Internet access and for the bluetooth which lets me use the latter as a modem for the former. And for the fact that I miraculously have signal in the middle of the night, in the middle of the desert, in the middle of a train.

Googling pharmacies in Winnemucca turns up exactly one pharmacy (closed), an Albertson’s, and a Raley’s supermarket.

Now my mind is racing. I’m already in a lot of pain and it’s only been an hour since this thing hit. 3 hours from now I’ll be in agony – what 24 hours from now will be like is too horrible to even contemplate. I’m a desperate woman.

I Google the address of the Amtrak station in Winnemucca.

I Mapquest how long it takes to get from Albertson’s to the Winnemucca train station.

Three minutes.

Hmmm.

I dial the number for Albertson’s.

The number has changed. Oh, great.

I dial the new number.

“Hello, Corey’s,” says the voice on the other end of the line.

Great, just great. I’ve reached someone’s house.

“Hello, uh, this isn’t Albertson’s?”

“Oh, it used to be, but now we’re Khoury’s.”

Ah.

“Oh, great. Uh..how late are you open?”

“We’re open until 11:00.”

Now I realize I have no idea what time it is, because we are either just about to be – just in the middle of – or just finishing – crossing into another time zone.

As I said, I’m a desperate woman.

“Ok, this is going to sound crazy, but can you please tell me what time it is?” (Oh please oh please oh please don’t think I’m some drunk raving lunatic.) “You see, I’m on a train,” (Oh yeah, for sure..raving lunatic) …”and I’m not sure what time zone we are in, but we are near Winnemucca.”

“It’s…uh…hang on..hey Cees, what time is it?”

“Wait!” I say, “It doesn’t really matter..just..” (I look at my watch – it’s either 9:55 or 10:55 right now) …”are you closing in a few minutes, or in about an hour?”

“In about an hour.”

Great.

I am a desperate woman, crazed with pain.

I fully formulate the plan.

I take a deep breath.

“Uh..ok..uh…I know you’ll understand because you’re a woman..umm…do you carry the over-the-counter medicine for bladder infections?”

“Um..what?”

“Bladder infections – some stores have over-the-counter medicine for that.”

“Let me get my manager. It’s ok, she’s a woman too. So she’ll understand too.”

Great. Pass the raving loony lady on to the manager. I’d do the same.

“Hello, this is Cici.”

“Hi Cici, do you have the over-the-counter medicine for bladder infections?”

“For what?”

“Bladder infections..you know..” (Think, Anne, think…) …”urinary tract infections! It would be where the other stuff for..uh..female problems is.”

“Oh, right! Yes, those little red pills.”

(OHMYGOD! YES! THOSE!!!)

“Yes! Yes! The little red pills!”

“Yes, we have those.”

Ok, that was the easy part, now to get them to me.

“Ok, this is going to sound completely crazy, but you see I’m on the train headed to Denver,” (Oh, please don’t hang up) …”and I just got a bladder infection, and I really need this medicine, and we’re about to pull in to Winnemucca..but I only have five minutes, and…” (Ohmygawd what if when they became Khoury’s they moved???) …”and, uh…do you know where the train station is? Are you close to it?”

“Yes, we’re just a few minutes away.”

WHEW

“And..and..um.. ..if I could call a taxi, and they could pick it up and maybe bring it to the station…or..I know you’re closing soon and if you are really close maybe one of your employees could just bring it by..I’d pay them..I mean, extra for making the delivery and..”

By this point I am absolutely raving because I’m not only a desperate woman crazed with pain, but I actually think maybe there is some hope that this somehow, maybe..could work…

“Sure, I could have someone bring it to you.”

“You can???”

OHMYGAWD YOU JUST LITERALLY SAVED MY LIFE!!!

(That’s actually what I said.)

“You will?? Ohmygosh…THANK YOU!!!”

..”And could you maybe have them bring a gallon of cranberry juice too?”

And, they did.

Pretty amazing story, huh?

Khoury’s of Winnemucca, and Cici, and the guy who delivered it whose name I didn’t get but to whom I was happy to give what I hope was a generous tip…

YOU GUYS ROCK!!!

Manna from Winnemucca

EPILOGUE:

Two months later, our son and I drove from California to the Denver area. On the way, we made a pilgrimage to Winnemucca, where we stopped and bought flowers, and delivered them to Cici at Khourys, to thank her for saving the crazy lady on the train. She looked touched – or perhaps she thought that I was.

I Did It! Introducing.. The Site for the Cure!

It’s an idea I’ve been noodling around on for months..and I finally did it!

I am so very excited and pleased to announce…

The Site for the Cure!

The Site for the Cure is a site which allows anyone participating in any charity event such as a walk, race, run or ride for charity to talk about what they are doing and why they are doing it, to talk about the event, and to link to their own sponsor page in order to raise sponsorship funds.

The Site for the Cure is a community of people who all have one thing in common: they are participating in events to raise money for charity. Usually their participation requires sponsorship of the “I’ll give you $10.00 if you walk/run/bike X miles” nature. We hope that you’ll help them out.

You can search for people participating in charity events by location, by cause, or by event. You can also participate in our forums!

And, of course, if you are someone who is participating on a charity event, this is the place for you! Pull up a spot, put your information up, along with a link to your sponsorship page, and let everyone know where to find you!

—-

Someone just asked me why I did this – what was my motivation, and this is what I told them:

“My friend Rachel is participating in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer, and I just really wanted to do something to help her get the word out a bit better..so I blogged it..but..I dunno..this idea just kept coming back to me..then I saw a fellow at a local coffee shop and he was training for another similar event – I could tell that because he was wearing a t-shirt that said “In Training” for the event..and I told him that he should put his sponsorship url on the shirt… and then I kept thinking about how *long* and *complicated* Rachel’s sponsorship url was – you couldn’t even *fit* it on a shirt, let alone *remember* it to tell someone (like, “Hey, I’m walking for breast cancer – if you’d like to sponsor me, here’s the link…uh..er…”..and this, truly, is the link for Rachel’s sponsorship:

http://info.avonfoundation.org/site/TR?px=3161371&pg=personal&fr_id=1286&et=1dDLRk-e8SEBTdIdJGLzuw..&s_tafId=154282

Can you *imagine* having to hand out *that* link? (I’m sorry, Rachel! Don’t take it personally!) )

So I thought “There ought to be a site to act as a clearinghouse and community, with an easy to remember url”..and that’s how the idea got born.”

So please please, tell everyone – help me make The Site for the Cure a success!

Start here: The Site for the Cure.

What is this bug?

What is this bug that keeps appearing, just one or two at a time, in our sink? We also occasionally find one in our cats’ water.

They aren’t being pests, but we have to keep gently moving them out of the bathroom sink before we can use it, for fear of drowning them!

Any idea what this is?:

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Check Out My Crazy Cat

As I was poring over the directions for assembling my new inversion table (foreground) our cat decided that I made a great piece of furniture in my own right!:

Birds Love Our Yard

I have to say that birds love our yard. And I love the birds. And I love my Digital Rebel (thank you, Honey!)

Here are some pictures from today.

And, oh yes, our cats like the birds too.

Our Copperopolis Anniversary – Staying at Saddle Creek in Copperopolis

As you know from earlier posts, this was our copper anniversary. What you, and my husband, didn’t know, was that part of my gift to him this year was an overnight trip to historic Copperopolis, home of the copper rush in California, staying at the gorgeous Saddle Creek resort. Yes, there was a copper rush in California, and indeed it was extremely important. At one point in time, Copperopolis supplied a majority of the copper needed for the Civil War, in fact.

I’d booked us a bungalow at Saddle Creek – a golfing resort next door to Copperopolis. No, we don’t golf, but that doesn’t matter. Saddle Creek is absolutely amazing in its own right.

These were the views from the sitting area right outside our bungalow door:

And if those don’t convince you that we were just this side of heaven, check out these – taken just outside our door near sunset:

The public areas of Saddle Creek are amazing too! Here is the lodge:

Here’s a view of our room:

And this is Reid, the bungalow manager, bringing cookies to our room as part of our turndown service! How awesome is that?! In fact, Reid, and all of the staff at Saddle Creek, were just wonderful, and so helpful! They really made this such a wonderful experience from start to finish!:

I should also mention that the restaurant was excellent – and the prices very reasonable for what you get. Nice atmosphere, excellent food – decent prices. What more could you ask for?

Now, let’s turn our attention to Copperopolis proper. Copperopolis, as I mentioned, is where the copper rush started in California. As it turns out, the good citizens of Calaveras County, where Copperopolis was eventually founded, called all that red stuff in the ground “iron rust”. They had no idea that it was copper ore. It wasn’t until one Hiram Hughes happened by, and noticed the similarity to similar ore lodes in Nevada with which he was familiar, that the fact that the area was rich in copper became known. Hughes staked a claim (named the Napoleon claim, for his son, William Napoleon Bonaparte Hughes (yes, really), and the rush was on.

Copperopolis, originally called “Copper Canyon”, and then changed to Copperopolis a year or so later, went from a copper claim on a hill to a booming mining town. During the civil war Copperopolis supplied a majority of copper for the war effort.

All that is left now is a few of the original buildings – the church, the armory (now used as the Copperopolis community center), and the Copper Consolidated Mining Company Office (now home to an olive oil company and the Copperopolis Internet company).

The folks are really friendly – in fact they were having a town crab feed in the Armory when we happened by, and they came out and invited us in to join them!

Here are some pictures from historic Copperopolis:

There is an excellent page on the history of Copperopolis here.

Do You Talk With Your Hands?

Are you one of those people who talks with your hands?

How about one of those people who, while on the phone, holds the phone with one hand while talking with the other?

How about one of those people who, while on the CELL phone, holds the phone with one hand while talking with the other?

(Do you see where this is going?)

I was driving on the highway today, doing 65, and I look over and see some guy also driving about 65… one hand holding his cell phone to his ear, and one hand wildly gesticulating with the conversation.

You do the math.

Listen, if you must drive and talk with your hands, get a headset, or a third hand, or something. But don’t share your deathwish with me.

Are You Responsible for Those Kids?

You know how when you are at a restaurant or a coffee shop or some other public place, and some parents are letting their kids run amok, and disturb the other patrons, disrupt the flow of traffic, trip people, and generally create a nuisance? Oblivious to all the stares and dirty looks being thrown their way, and in the general direction of their kids?

Actually I could have just stopped with “oblivious”, I suppose.

Anyways, don’t you just hate that?

Well, that happened to me yesterday at Starbucks, where I was sitting attempting to grade finals. And a lady next to me was trying to study. And everywhere around me people were either keeping to themselves, or attemping to have quiet, polite conversation. Including the two men sitting in the corner, whose two children were running amok.

And I don’t just mean a little amok. I mean a whole lot amok. The two children, perhaps ages 2 and 4 or so, were literally running from one end of the room to the other, cutting right across the path where people walk in the front door, and get into line. Back and forth they ran, weaving in and out of people carrying scalding hot drinks, glass cups, and annoyed looks.

At one point they had a long knitted scarf stretched between them as they ran around, the better to trip people with.

And through it all, the two men ignored them, looking up only occasionally to smile benevolently at their cute little tykes and then go back to their conversation.

I’m sure they appreciated how the entire population of Starbucks was watching their children for them.

I went over to the manager, whom I know (let’s face it, we know all the people who work at all of the Starbucks within a 10 mile radius), and asked her what the policy was when a patron’s children are stampeding. She lamented how there was no policy, and I said that I was myself about ready to go over to the parents and say something.

I should take a moment to tell you that I hate confrontation. Yeah, I know, kinda odd for a lawyer – indeed a rather successful litigator at one time, but there you have it. I hate confrontation. Well, unless I’m billing hourly for it.

But I just couldn’t bear it any more, and somebody had to do something. But how to say something without it being confrontational? Hey, I’m a parent, and I understand that it does no good to get a parent defensive about their child.

Then suddenly, I hit on the perfect thing to say. At least, I think so. In fact it brought a grin to my lips just thinking of saying it to them, if only I could pull it off.

And I did.

I sauntered over to the two oblivious ones, leaned in really close, and very sweetly asked:

“Excuse me, but is one of you responsible for these two children?”

“I am,” answered one of the men, readily.

I leaned in even closer to him, and in a knowing stage whisper tinged with just the right amount of irony, smirked:

“It’s kinda hard to tell.”

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAH!

“Is one of you responsible for these children? Oh, you are? Because it’s kind of hard to tell.”

Get it??

Oh, I crack myself up!

And the thing is, it worked. They weren’t offended, they apologized, and took their kids outside to let them run around.

Feel free to use this. Just think of me when you do.

What I Did Today – Hair Today, Goon Tomorrow

Today I cut all of my hair off.

I don’t just mean that I got a haircut. I mean I cut off all of my hair. I mean so short that, as I told one friend, I make Sinead O’Connor look like a long-hair.

Several people have asked me why I did it. I have been wanting to do this for a couple of years. I’ve been putting it off, but I’ve been wanting to do it. Here’s why:

a) I think that I look good in very short hair; and
b) I thought it was time for my natural hair colour and me to get re-aquainted; and
c) covering the grey that is coming in is such a hassle, but to let it go natural means
d) either having two-tone hair while it grows out, or cutting it back to the roots; and
e) due to stress and life changes, my hair has gotten very thin – I mean falling out in clumps every time I wash it – and while it’s growing back in, it’s just starting to come in at the top, so the bulk of the length of my hair had gotten very thin and sub-optimal; and
f) if I didn’t do it now, I’d have to wait a few years, because in a bit over a year if I did it folks would think it was a reaction to “turning a certain age”; and
g) I think that I look good in very short hair.

Fringe benefits I have already noticed:

a) It cost only $9.00 to get my hair cut. Usually it costs $45+
b) And that’s not including hair colouring, which I’ve done away with.
c) It feels fantastic on my head.
d) It feels fantastic to my hands.
e) No more bed head!
f) No more hat hair!
g) Did I mention that I think that I look good in very short hair.

So there you have it.

And here you have it: